


Three's a Crowd

by fictorium



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015), The Bold Type, The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Age Difference, CEO, CatCo Worldwide Media, Editors-in-Chief, F/F, Fashion & Couture, HBICs, Journalism, Old Friends, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Runway Magazine, Scarlet Magazine, Traditional Media, Women Being Awesome, Women In Power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 12:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11989872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: Jacqueline Carlyle is having an unexpected crisis. Who better to combat it with than her two oldest friends, Miranda and Cat?





	Three's a Crowd

**Author's Note:**

> I have finally lost it.

“You’re late,” Cat remarked, sliding a dry martini along the table towards Jacqueline. “Miranda’s doing the sigh.”

“We can’t all come and go by superhero,” Jacqueline huffs, unbuttoning her white blazer and taking a seat in the one unoccupied Jacobsen chair. “Wasn’t there a fireplace here?”

“You’re thinking of the St. Regis,” Miranda pointed out, not unkindly for once. “But that décor is far too oppressive for late summer. You finally got free of him, then?”

“The only upside of 45 being in town is that the universe saw fit to karmically balance that by sending Cat along too.” Jacqueline drains her drink, knowing it will sit heavily with the earlier Scotch and not caring much about it. She hasn’t survived all these years in publishing without learning to handle her liquor, and god knows her company tonight could match her shot for shot if it comes to it. “Though Miranda, I confess it’s your brain I need to pick first and foremost.”

“I knew one day Scarlet would look for _real_ fashion inspiration,” Miranda answers softly, flagging down the waiter and ordering another round with a silent twist of her finger. “I just didn’t expect you to climb down so soon.”

“Be nice,” Cat warns, but she’s pouting a little at not being the center of attention. 

“I think I have a runner.” The table stays quiet, waiting for elaboration. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Jacqueline knows she has to give the detail or her problem won’t make a lick of sense. Admitting there even is a problem is allegedly the first step, but right now the thought of stepping off the roof of the Steinem Building is far more appealing. Her friends are loyal and decent women, leaders in their fields, and wise beyond reason. That doesn’t prevent them also being intolerable gossip sharks, just waiting for that first drop of blood in the water.

“It’s Jane,” she continues, and rolls her eyes as Miranda makes a production of pulling a fifty-dollar bill from the recesses of a Marc Jacobs purse that even Scarlet doesn’t have a sample of yet, and slapping it into Cat’s waiting palm. 

“Predictable,” Cat chides. “Now, carry on. Who dared to seduce the future of journalism out from under you?”

“The girl isn’t under her,” Miranda remarks, a touch of acid this time now that she’s lost a bet. “Isn’t that the whole problem? Besides, if anyone’s the future of journalism, it’s my Andrea.”

“How did you both end up with cub reporters anyway?” Jacqueline’s nose for a story and sudden change of heart about oversharing lets her pounce on the fresh conversational meat. “Because you just know this one,” she points to Cat. “Is about to come in with chapter and verse on Kara’s articles and how _mature_ they are, and how they’re going to change the world, one paragraph at a time.”

“All of which happens to be true,” Cat points out, her smile just on the north side of dreamy under that perfect Dior lipstick. “But you’re not ducking the tough questions that easily. Is Jane every bit as peppy and talented and decade-defying in her lustful looks towards you?”

“Did something happen between you that’s causing her to run?” Miranda leans in, deadly serious. “For me, all I said was ‘I see a lot of myself in you’. Andrea bolted, like a nervous filly at her first Kentucky Derby.”

“It’s a job offer!” Jacqueline protests. “And might I remind you both that I just celebrated my 20th anniversary, very happily too.”

Miranda shrugs. “Husbands come and go.”

“It’s just that some of us throw them out after 20 weeks, rather than years,” Cat chimes in, wearing her four failed marriages as a badge of pride. Other friends say that Ian and Jacqueline’s longevity makes them envious, but these two have never pretended to any such thing. “When the right girl comes along, that astonishing one who’s learning to own her power… that’s seductive.” She waves a finger vaguely to illustrate the point, well on her way to tipsy. 

“No one is being seduced.” Jacqueline is firm on that point, sipping at her second drink. “Although…” She covers her face with her hands, groaning quietly. “She did confide that she’d never had an orgasm. I swear, it took everything in my power not to lift her up on my desk and show her what she’s been missing.” 

A quiet “hmm” of approval from Miranda, and a scandalized gasp from Cat. Fairly standards as reactions go. Done talking for the moment, Jacqueline flags down the next round, sitting back properly in her chair. 

“What time are you meeting Keira?” Miranda asks Cat, sensitive enough to let the dust settle for once. 

“I told you, it’s Kara,” Cat reminds her. “The name thing was just to keep her at arm’s length. Judging by the latest news out of National City, I have at least an hour before she’s even in flight.”

“Be grateful,” Miranda warns in that sage way of hers. “I don’t see Andrea until the weekend is almost over. That irritating little paper of hers has to stop with assignments that require so much travel.”

“I could buy them out,” Cat considers with a tilt of her head. “Except print is dying, no matter how much we insist otherwise.”

“Not dying,” Jacqueline argues. “Just in need of serious rehabilitation. That’s what my new budget has been focusing on.”

“And back to shop talk,” Miranda groans in that whispering way of hers. “We’re really beyond help, wouldn’t you say?”

“Irredeemably,” Jacqueline agrees. “But by all means, if you have a solution to my little dilemma, I’m all ears.”

“Are you rethinking the Hillary cut?” Cat asks. “I mean, it suits your bone structure, but it might be pushing your millennial away. Not that the polling ever supported that claim, but maybe she’s still feeling the Bern instead of… you?”

“You know, you two are a little smug considering all the drama it took to get the girls of your dreams. Without the additional complication of still being married, either.”

“I was married when I met Andrea,” Miranda corrects. “Not happily, but I never did have much taste in men.”

“We’ve discussed… opening things up.” Staring at her drink, Jacqueline waits for a response to that revelation. She gets mildly amused glances, nothing more. “Oh hell, walk me through it. How do I get the girl?”

“Well first,” Miranda sets out her coaster and her phone as though arranging a layout the rest of them can’t see. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to let her go.”

“Mmm,” Cat agrees, deflating Jacqueline almost entirely. “It seems counterintuitive but that does the trick.” She points at Miranda in recognition. “If you love something, blah blah.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” Jacqueline scoffs. “I’m talking about a fling here. A case of hero worship meets _make me feel young again_. Not the Bridges of Madison County.”

“That’s how it starts,” Cat confides. “You tell yourself you’re just getting it out of your system. That you just need to know if those arms will flex in just the right way when you pull her in for a kiss. Then before you know it, it’s six months later and you’re paying off TMZ one morning and picking out engagement rings the next. You mark my words.”

“Miranda?” Jacqueline can dismiss the ramblings of a closet romantic, but Miranda never gives anything but the unvarnished truth.

“Let her go, just to prove you can do without her. Which, as it turns out, you can’t. Then when you see her again, no longer bound by contracts or HR policy, well. All bets are off. That’s my narrative, and it’s not one I want to be excluded from.”

“If that’s your way of telling me you snagged Taylor for November…”

Miranda smirked. It took considerable self-control not to lob a drink right at that haughty face and immaculate snowy hair. 

“Shall we have another?” Cat interrupts. “Only I’ll be off soon, and you haven’t even told us that much about this Jane creature yet. Is she just divine?”

“She’s… special,” is all Jacqueline can conjure. For the moment, that’s going to have to do. 


End file.
